Author's Note: First CSI fanfic EVER! I'm quite proud of myself, I started writing this back around Easter when I was on break, and finally finished it today. This isn't a very popular pairing, but its still one of my favorites. Please let me know what you think! I have a few other Gil/Greg and some Nick/Greg fics planned but I want to know that I can atleast write for CSI well...Enjoy~

Disclaimer: Seriously. Sara? Never. Warrick's death? Not a chance. Some hot office sex between my favorite pairings? (can be seen on profile page) Who wouldn't want to see that...

Warnings: I'm not about to spoil the end for ya. If you wanna know, better whip out those glasses and get to reading.

Work would always come first.

He had learned to accept that over the months they had started dating. Solving crime would always take precedence over dinner reservations. Working over-time would make them miss a movie they'd been planning to see for weeks. Catching some pedophile or serial killer was far more important than staying at home and cuddling on the couch. His feelings would be forced to take a backseat when a case came to their door, priorities first after all.

That didn't mean it didn't hurt when his lover had forgotten their anniversary. They had made it this far, against all doubts, but that probably didn't count when your relationship wasn't public knowledge. When even your friends were in the dark about who you were seeing, if anyone. It's not like they could flaunt it around the lab though. That would be unprofessional and they could end up fired. But it still hurt.

"Greg!"

"Hm?" he looked up somewhat dazedly, unable to get out of the funk he'd fallen into when he realized what day it was. The sight of the man in front of him however, made him snap into attention. "Hey Gil, what'd you need?"

"Greg…" the tone was laced with warning.

"Sorry, Grissom, what'd you need?"

"Run these samples."

Oh yeah, they were still at work…What did he expect, a bouquet of red roses? The DNA expert eyed the dozen or so plastic evidence bags that had been shoved into his hands instead of flowers. This was as close as it was going to get it seemed…

"Now Greg?"

He jumped, just now realizing he was stalling around instead of doing his job. The older man in front of him was eyeing him with a look that was between exasperation and…thinly veiled concern? No, that was impatience.

"Yeah, sorry Gris…" What was he thinking? Acting like that, he had to get a hold over himself. He couldn't let their relationship start affecting his job now, not after all this time. It was just another day after all, right?

He pretended not to notice when Gil left without another word.

Something was obviously wrong with Greg. His lab walls weren't shaking from the bass of the latest Marilyn Manson CD. In fact, he didn't seem to be listening to anything at all. Though that assumption was immediately scratched when Catherine entered the room, soft acoustic music reaching her ears. The lab tech didn't seem to notice her presence though, going about his work per usual, singing under his breath as he did. She watched him from the doorway for a while, looking to see if he'd give away any reason in his actions as to explain his sudden mood shift. He seemed fine yesterday.

"Greg…"

"Shit!" his voice seemed almost too loud for the feel of the room, shattering the invisible peace that had settled, along with the tray of vials he'd been holding. The boy was immediately on his knees, cleaning up the mess.

"Are you ok Greg? I didn't mean to startle you…" Catherine placated, moving further inside.

"No biggie Cat, just running some things for Grissom." He motioned to the broken glass that littered the tile.

"Greg, what happened in here?"

Their boss didn't yell, but the frustration in his voice held the same effect, causing both lab tech and CSI to jump. The younger of the two clenched his fists, momentarily forgetting about the shards that he was holding, until his curse once again broke the air, "Shit". It was obvious to Gil that the ruined samples were his and the control he held over his anger at the situation was waning.

"What happened Greg?" he repeated.

"I tripped and dropped the tray, I'll get them running as soon as I clean up."

"I need the samples as soon as possible."

"I know Grissom but you're going to have to wait along with everyone else."

"I'd like to know that mine will be priority, especially after this…accident."

Greg got to his feet, practically throwing the shards he held into a biohazard container. He spun on his heel to face his boss, almost stumbling over Catherine who was still kneeling on the ground in the process.

"You'll get them when you get them, ok?" he said in a strained whisper though it was obvious he had desired to shout the words instead.

The man in front of him was silent for a long moment, "Change your gloves Greg."

The young man watched him leave, before looking down at his bloody gloves, knowing for certain that most of the blood was his and not from the vials he'd dropped. Ripping them off, he set to work on re-sanitizing his hands, ignoring the stinging in his palms and fingers.

"You could have told him I startled you, you didn't have to protect me."

The DNA expert had forgotten that he wasn't alone in the room, turning to Catherine as he snapped his right glove on.

"I didn't want you to get yelled at." He lied.

Of course Grissom would have been somewhat exasperated that something like that had actually happened. Neither of them would have gotten in trouble for it, maybe just teased a little. But by saying he had 'tripped'…well, he only did it to get a reaction from Gil. The other had been so distant this evening and even if it was to get reprimanded for something he had unintentionally did, it was better than the silence he'd been on the receiving end of.

"Yea, right." This wasn't her first time around, there was most definitely more to it than what Greg was telling her. She wasn't a CSI level one anymore, but she might as well be, the boy in front of her was hiding whatever was going on well. Catherine couldn't just wiggle her hips and bat her eye lashes to get the result sooner as she usually did. The lab rat was obviously not in the mood.

"You're not yourself Greg, tell me what's wrong."

"I have to get these tests restarted." He murmured, but was held back by a hand on his shoulder.

"You're not getting anything restarted until you tell me what's going on."

He was fidgeting, she noted as he bit his lip and avoided eye contact. Before wiping his face with a gloved hand, he'd have to re-sanitize.

"Promise you won't tell?"

She quirked an eyebrow at that, "Scout's honor, now spill."

"My…" he sighed, looking down at his shoes "My boyfriend forgot about our anniversary today…" he whispered.

"B-boyfriend?" that was unexpected.

"Stupid right? But we've been together a year now, isn't that supposed to be special?"

Catherine struggled to find her voice to answer, but failed.

"It's alright, can't let it affect my work, right?" he smiled at her warmly before turning back to his work.

So Greg was gay…the infamous ladies man. She thought back to all the times she'd walked in on his and Sara's playful banter. How she herself had wiggled her hips and batted her eyes to get her results first. All the times she flirted to get him to stay after and run a last minute DNA test so she could close her case. All those times where all she needed to do was ask.

Grissom sighed, rubbing his eyelids from beneath his glasses. The night was turning into a long one. A teenaged girl had been murdered at some shady, underground club. Her blood wasn't the only one at the scene, they were hoping that the murderer had cut himself, and it wasn't just from a fight. But it seemed that he would have to clock in for overtime, what with Greg dropping the samples. His mistake would put them behind another shift at the least.

The bottle-blonde seemed distant today, and Gil knew that he didn't help the situation by reprimanding his younger lover. He obviously didn't destroy the samples on purpose, although the entomologist wasn't ready to believe his excuse of tripping either. A niggling thought at the back of his mind was telling him it had something to do with Catherine's presence in the DNA lab. He refused to acknowledge the slight jealousy that gripped his stomach at the endless possibilities of why the two could have been there by themselves. Never mind the fact that it was one of the busiest labs in the country and Catherine was mostly likely there for the results on her case. And Grissom's feelings had nothing to do with the fact he was in a relationship with the lab rat, no, he never let his feelings affect him at work. At least, that's what he kept telling himself…

But it was Greg who was worrying him into a migraine at the moment. Ever since they had woken that morning the boy seemed to be waiting for something and when it didn't come before they departed for work that night…Lets just say Black Flag or something equally as loud was absent from the halls. The DNA analyst appeared to be expecting something from him when he had stopped by earlier, he hadn't failed to notice the slightly disappointed look in those sable eyes or the soft acoustic music that played in the back ground.

The only time that Greg listened to, Dashboard Confessional (Grissom thought that was what the band was called) was when he was upset. The CSI remembered how it played for nearly a month after the boy's grandmother had passed. The two had been close, though not as close as he was to his Papa Olaf…Grissom dreaded the day when death finally claimed the stubborn old Norwegian man.

Of course this had nothing to do with his current dilemma. He obviously hadn't done something right this morning. There was no doubt in his mind that it was all his fault now, though for the life of him he couldn't come up for a reason why.

Arguments were few in their relationship, surprisingly enough, they had no problem over coming their differences. Greg wouldn't blast his music like he did at work, and Grissom tried to keep the boring documentaries on insects at a minimum. They would take turns making breakfast, and divided the chores evenly. It also helped that they worked the same hours, adjusting their lives so they were balanced was simple, and took less getting used to than Grissom had first estimated. It was hard to believe they'd been together for a year now…Oh.

And therein laid his answer.

It wasn't until the end of shift that Greg saw his lover again. Waiting for him in front of the Denali, a sorrowful look plastered on his aging face. Despite the fact that they drove to work in separate cars so as not to reveal their relationship to their coworkers, he found himself crossing the parking lot towards his boss with heavy feet. Instead of turning right to head to his own car.

"Hey Grissom."

"Greg…"

He found his chin being lifted up with a gentle hand, not even realizing that he had looked down in the first place.

"I'm sorry." He bit his lip, diverting his eyes.

"Look at me," Grissom spoke gently waiting for the lab rat's eyes to meet his own again before continuing. "What do you have to be sorry for?"

"I ruined your samples."

The older of the two chuckled, quickly sobering when he saw the upset look that Greg shot him. "Don't worry about that, I'm sorry for raising my voice at you. It was an accident."

"It's been a stressful night, you don't need to apologize."

"Yes I do, I'm acting like an old fool…I forgot our anniversary. That's why you've been so withdrawn today, isn't it?"

He looked away again, nodding when Grissom cleared his throat, prompting for confirmation. "Yea…"

"I thought so…can I make it up to you?"

"Depends about what you have in mind." He couldn't help the sly smirk that tugged on his lips.

Which were soon covered by Grissom's own, the soft kiss managing to steal his breath away. It didn't occur to him that they were still standing in the parking lot outside of the Las Vegas Crime Lab. Or that the rest of the team was getting off shift right about now, not to mention that the people on days were due to start coming in. Well, until he heard someone clear their throat from behind them. Grissom was the first to pull away.

"Happy Anniversary Greg."

The DNA analyst had forgotten all about the desire he had expressed to his lover in the beginning of their relationship. That one-day they'd be able to tell their friends in the nightshift what had been going on underneath their noses this whole time.

Flowers seemed like a pretty insignificant thing after that.

Yay! Its done, the ending could have been better in my opinion but I didn't want to drag it out.

Please review!

And for those of you who read 'Melt' and 'Workdays'. The next chapters are in progress.

xxx